


Reverse Engineering

by qvbit



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I know yall are waiting on Usonia and The Lure, I promise I'll finish my main fics soooon they're so close, This is PURE self indulgence sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qvbit/pseuds/qvbit
Summary: You land a new job repairing androids. A scrappy maintenance android takes a shine to you.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Female Character/WM500 Android
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay, let me show you the droids we have lined up for today.” Ian, your new boss, said. 

_ Finally,  _ you thought to yourself. You’d been itching to do some hands-on work for hours now, after spending the morning looking at spreadsheets and receipts and databases. 

It was your first day on the job. You’d done work like this before, with non-android robots, and you’d helped with the odd android fix for a friend of a friend, but as with any new job, you felt a little overwhelmed. All the data records meant nothing to you if you didn’t know the androids they related to. You had to get your hands dirty to understand things properly. 

You’d just got your official Cyberlife repair license, and you’d gotten this job almost immediately after. You hadn’t expected to end up repairing androids, but somehow you found your way down that path and applied for the license. You had always enjoyed tinkering, taking things apart and putting them back together, so it did sort of make sense, in a way. Still, you hoped this was just an interim phase until you were able to kick off your ideal career. 

In the meantime, this was fine, you thought. It would look good on your resume - the company you were working for was independent, but they had been contracted by the City of Detroit as the official repairs provider for all their public service and construction androids.

_ Proud employer of humans _ , their motto proclaimed. Ian had given you a long speech about it when you’d arrived - he believed in human-only repairs - androids fixing androids was a recipe for disaster, they needed to be reminded humans have power over them, he said. You weren’t sure you agreed with his ideals, but a job was a job. 

Ian led you out of the dingy office and into a large warehouse. Spaced out on the floor were several repair stations, equipped with stands, gurneys, and benches full of tools, as well as industrial power outlets that hung down on thick wires from the ceiling; everything you would need to perform a full repair. It was a very polished and professional operation compared to what you were used to, and you found it a little daunting. You’d been expecting the place to look like a car repair shop, but instead it almost looked like an aerospace lab. You hoped they wouldn’t throw you in the deep end straight away. 

“I’m gonna throw you in the deep end, see how you hold up.” Ian said. Right. Exactly what you’d  _ not  _ wanted. You sighed internally. Externally, you tried to appear enthusiastic. “We have one coming in that’s been fucked up majorly. A metal beam fell on him as he was welding on his back. Cut him clean in half. You cringed. Ian gestured to an empty station. “That’s your space. Spice it up if you want, everyone else does. I dunno, hang up some pictures, or tinsel, like Saul over there.” He chuckled and gestured out to a very christmassy looking workstation. “They seem to think it gives them a good rapport with the droids. Just so you know, these tin cans you’re gonna be working on aren’t AP700s. Like their manuals say, they have no social protocols. Cyberlife decided ‘friendly’ wasn’t important enough to be part of their software. They’re old as hell models, most of them, and they’re made for manual labor, so don’t expect anything intelligent to come out of their mouths. They probably won’t say a damn thing to you, or if they do, it’ll be dumb as hell. But remember - they’re just robots, it’s nothing.” 

At that moment a couple of androids wheeled in a large trolley with a large, bulky android in it. And by ‘in it’, that was to say, each half shoved in so it would just fit. You stifled a gasp. 

“Oh yeah. That’s the guy,” Ian said. 

“Jesus. You were right about throwing me in the deep end.”

“You’ll be alright. Ask one of the other fixers to help if you need it. You might have to force it out of them but they’ll come round.”

“... Thanks for the advice.” 

“No problem. Now, I’ve got other shit to do, so get going,” Ian said brusquely before turning to head back to the main office. 

You stood there for a moment and looked around. None of the other mechanics looked up. You had a feeling this would be a long day. 

The normal-sized androids brought the trolley to your station. The hulking TR400 has his eyes shut, and his LED was off. You would have thought being chopped in half would be the end of him, but there was obviously hope yet or he wouldn’t have been brought in. You looked him over - his core was still intact, so that was a good start. You looked at the smaller androids. “Would you guys be able to help me? I don’t think I can lift him on my own. Just put him on the stand there.” 

They obliged without a word. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at them. They still said nothing. They left, walking back out the main doors, and you were left to your own devices. You sighed loudly and put your hands on your hips. You had to start somewhere. He seemed intact except for his middle. You removed his core and got to work listing all the broken wires and internal framework that needed replacing. Then, you leaned against the workbench. You wished you’d asked where to find the parts. You picked up the list and looked around for someone to ask. Everyone had their head down, and the station. Nearest to you didn’t have a human at it. There was a WM500 sitting there waiting for someone to tend to him. You walked over to the back of the warehouse and found some large cupboards. You pulled them open one by one, trying to find at least one thing on your list. Finding nothing, you clicked your tongue and shut the doors. 

“Hey.” A bright but toneless voice came from behind you. You turned round. It was the WM500 that had been left unattended at the station next to you. He stood there looking you over for a moment before he said, “I can help you.”

He held a hand out, asking silently to look at the list. You handed it to him cautiously. It was probably uncouth to give it to him but you didn’t know how else you’d get the help right now. You hoped no one would notice you. He took it, and looked it over, then glanced back up at you. 

It was impossible not to notice his eyes - they were a piercing pale gray-green and they cut into you like knives. With eyes like that, all he’d need to do was glare at someone the right way to make them run a mile. Maybe he was designed that way - he was a construction android after all, not designed to be among the general public. Ian was right about them having no social protocols. His voice was deadpan, face blank. Still, he seemed to genuinely want to help. You got the feeling he might be one of the older models - he had a few signs of wear and tear, a scuff mark that looked like a little scar just above his left eyebrow, and a small dint in the side of his right cheekbone. 

He turned and went to the side of the warehouse, where, under the large windows, there were rows of drawers. They were all labelled alphabetically. “Here,” he opened one and pulled out a cord for you. 

You grinned. “Thanks! I’m guessing the rest are here somewhere under one of those labels.” 

The android nodded matter-of-factly. 

“Eighty-six! What the hell are you doing? Do you need a repair? Because if you don’t I’ll  _ give  _ you a reason to.” Ian had emerged from the office and spotted the WM500. Clearly he was not supposed to be there. “Who’s looking after you?”

“Lana, but she left for a minute” the android replied softly.  _ “ _ I was just trying to help. She’s new.” 

“Yeah, I  _ know  _ she’s new. I just showed her around, she could’ve found that stuff by herself. Get back to your station and for god’s sake, just sit still and wait for once!” Ian said. Then he turned to address you. “Don’t worry about eighty-six. It’s a bucket of bolts, one of our oldest models. Bad-boy attitude, thinks it can spite me and its supervisors. We keep sending the City advice that they need to replace it, but they must be running a tight-ass budget because they keep sending it back here anyway.” 

You looked over at eighty-six, who was skulking back to his station. You wondered if he’d heard Ian call him a bucket of bolts. 

“You got what you need?” Ian asked you. 

“Almost. Just need a couple more things.” 

“When you go back, can you check that Lana comes back and make sure that muppet stays in its place?”

You nodded and continued to search for the rest of the parts you needed. Ian returned to the office. When you got back to your post, eighty-six was there, as well as a burly, statuesque woman who must have been Lana. Eighty-six was positively dwarfed by her. She grinned at you. “Heard Max was bothering you. He can be a bit intense, but he’s mostly harmless.” 

You gestured to him. “ _ That’s _ Max?”

Lana nodded. “He’s number eighty-six. Like Maxwell Smart. You know, agent eighty-six with the shoe phone.” 

You laughed, bemused. “I assumed you’d named him after like … Mad Max, those old apocalypse movies.”

Lana laughed back. “If I’d known how much of a loose cannon he was, I probably  _ would  _ have named him after Mad Max. Nah, it’s an old TV show. We’re not really meant to name them but I couldn’t resist that reference.”

You smiled back. “No, I like it.”

Lana knelt down and started working on something in Max’s leg while he sat still, and stared at you curiously. “Don’t let Ian get to you, do what you need to do to get the job done.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Treat an android like a person, and they’ll respond like one. Treat them like a machine, and they’ll respond like one,” she replied. “When  _ he  _ says it, it means keep them well oiled and they’ll run like a Swiss watch - a machine. When I say it, it means make them feel comfortable, let  _ them _ help you, and they’ll be a lot easier and more cooperative to work with. They’ll trust you to handle them well and send them back out there ready to do their job. And, between you and me, every repair-person in here has a soft spot for certain droids. You learn to love ‘em after a while.” She laughed. “Look at me, introducing an android before myself. I’m Lana.”

“I know, Ian asked me to check on you,” you chuckled. You introduced yourself. 

“Well,” she said. “Welcome, if it means anything. I guess Ian’s given you the briefing.” 

You nodded. 

“And the whole  _ deep end  _ spiel I’m sure.” Lana walked over to your station. “Yep. Let’s see what you got here. Big guy TR400. Christ. They must’ve thought he was fixable to bring him back here but,  _ dude _ . Been a while since I saw one ripped in half like that. Good luck. If you need any help, just ask, I’m not busy.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a long day after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Finally, you got the TR400 booted up again. You looked up to see that the windows were black - it was dark outside. 

You ran a diagnostic. Everything seemed to be in working order, and as his systems came back online, his skin started to heal around the tear. His eyes opened. “Oh my god, I’m alive.”

You laughed with relief and exhilaration at finally resurrecting him. “Yes! You’re alive, do you feel alright?”

He nodded. “Let me down, I’ll see if I can walk.” 

“Okay,” you said apprehensively. “But if you fall I’m not strong enough to hold you up.”

“Let’s give it a go.”

You let him off the stand and he landed gracefully on his feet. He took a few steps, and then smiled at you. “I think I’m fully functioning. Thank you.”

“It was a pleasure to help you, uh …” you peered at his uniform. “Five hundred forty.”

The huge android looked at you curiously, like no one had ever addressed him like that before. Then, he turned and left for his charging station, through the main doors into the snow. 

The next few days went by uneventfully. You warmed to Lana quickly, and were glad her repair station was next to yours. She had a fondness for old music as well as old TV shows - her workstation was never silent, and your days were soundtracked by heavy drums and screaming guitars.

Things were fairly uneventful until Max returned for another repair. Lana noticed first. She stood up, and you could see the concern in her eyes. He was being walked in by a fellow android, arm over her shoulder, and he looked awfully unhappy about it. Lana’s station was occupied by another android. Yours was free. You beckoned the uninjured android over, and she approached with a limping Max. As soon as they got close to your station, Max pushed himself roughly off her. She stumbled. 

“I could have got here by myself, I don’t need you.” he said gruffly. Then he limped pitifully to the empty chair next to your workbench.

You looked him over. “What happened to your leg?”

“Bricklaying.”

You gave him a pointed look, asking for clarification. 

“Someone dropped a brick on me,” he said sheepishly. 

You tutted. “Well, I hope they have a shitty day today.” You knelt down. “Alright, let’s see what the damage is. Can you pull your trouser leg up?”

Max looked a little taken aback at being asked to do it himself, but followed your direction. His shin was busted, too much for the skin to heal by itself. You’d need to replace some of the biocomponents and then graft it. Just as you were about to get to work, Lana leaned over to you. “Put on The Clash. He loves them.”

You turned to him. “You like music?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. 

You took that as a yes. ”Huh,” you mused. “Don’t think I’ve ever met an android that liked music.” 

You put your phone on the workbench and started playing London Calling. Max leaned back and shut his eyes. You worked away quietly on his broken shin. After shoehorning some parts around, and replacing others, you decided you were done. You let the skin heal over and pulled his trouser leg down again. “Voila. See how that feels.” 

He moved it back and forth a few times, then got up. He stood there for a moment, looking at his feet and swaying a little, before catching your gaze again, his own unwavering. It unnerved you a little. 

“You’re all done, Max, you’re good to go,” you said, in case it was permission to leave that he was waiting for.

He seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in. “Thanks,” he said. Then, he turned to leave. 

“Nice work,” Lana said. “He didn’t wrestle you off of him. I’m surprised.”

You grinned. “Ha. After that TR400, everything else is easy.”

* * *

It felt like hardly any time at all until Max returned for another repair. Again, he was being helped in by another android, who he shoved off at the door. You ran up to him, and gave the other android an apologetic look. “I’ll take him from here.”

Lana had said he’d been calmer with you, for some reason. Maybe he wouldn’t shove you when you tried to help him. You held out your hand. He gave you a resentful look. He was bent over and clutching his chest. “Come on, Max, there’s no way you’re gonna get to the chair by yourself.” You jerked your arm at him pointedly. 

He took it roughly, and you pulled his arm around your shoulders. He wasn’t much taller than you, but he was heavier than he looked. Finally you returned to your workstation, and with a grunt you pulled him haphazardly into the chair. 

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me someone dropped another brick on you.” 

He shook his head. “Drill accident.” 

“What?!”

He shrugged. 

“Okay, let’s see.” 

He removed the hi-vis jacket and pulled his shirt up. It looked like he’d fallen on the drill. You grimaced. “That’s lucky, it could’ve gone right through your pump. Missed it by a couple of inches.” 

Lana, in a free moment, came over to see him. “Max? What the hell? This is the second time in a week.”

Max shrugged again. 

“Is something going on? Don’t tell me you’re getting to arguments with your supervisor again.”

“No, just unlucky.” 

“An android going head to head with their supervisor, how often does that happen?” you asked. 

“Are you asking in general, or with Max specifically? Because those are two different questions.” Lana laughed. Then she sighed. “He may be an old model, but he doesn’t usually come in  _ this  _ often.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

“Why don’t you ever use the stand?” Max asked. 

You shrugged. “I dunno, I just hate them. They look like torture devices.”

He fell silent. Usually, silence didn’t bother you - most of the androids you worked on were quiet, but for some reason, Max’s silence made you feel awkward. 

“I play a little bit of guitar,” you said. He raised his eyebrows just slightly. You took that as a sign of interest. “I can play about four chords, ha, go me,” you chuckled. 

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know. I have a ways to go.”

“Can you sing?”

You shook your head. “Nah. I haven’t really tried. Why?”

“I’m not programmed for singing, but I’d like to have been.”

Taken aback, you raised your eyebrows, and giggled a little. “What, you mean like Here4u?”

He eyed you indignantly. “No, I do not mean like Here4u.”

You wiped the smile off your face. “Okay, more like uh … Nirvana.”

Was it you reading too much into him, or did he actually look a little hurt? You immediately regretted poking fun at him. He came across as having such a thick skin, but maybe he was more sensitive than he acted. 

You gave him a good look-over. “You know, you might make a good frontman after all. You’ve got the right look if only you were a bit scruffier. Here-” you reached out and mussed his usually neat hair. It looked better that way, you thought; it matched his attitude - a little scruffy, rough around the edges. “Alright Kurt Cobain, that’s more like it! All you need is a different outfit. A leather jacket or something, and some tatts.” You couldn’t help but imagine him decked out in human clothes, and oh man, did he look good.  _ Too  _ good. You screwed your eyes shut for a moment trying to push it out of your head.

He caught his reflection in the metallic side of the workbench, and to your surprise, he laughed a little. It was a dry laugh, and it wasn’t accompanied by a smile, but it was a laugh all the same. It was probably the best that a WM500 could manage, you thought.

You placed a new panel over the parts you’d repaired, and as soon as it clicked into place his skin began to heal. “Okay. You’re good to go again. And hey. I’m always happy to see you but try not to get broken so often, I think you’re worrying Lana.”

He nodded. You weren’t sure he was being entirely truthful. 

* * *

He didn’t take your advice. It wasn’t even three days before he came in again. This time, he showed up alone. One of the other mechanics ran up to him, offering to take him to her station. He shouldered past her, and made a beeline for you. She chased after him. 

“Hey! Eighty-six, get the hell back here!”

“No thanks. I know where I’m going.” he said quietly. You noticed some heads turn. 

You leaned over to Lana. “I think I might’ve been a bit too nice to him last time,” you admitted. 

Lana shrugged. “What can I say. They have their favorites. They’re not really meant to, but it’s no harm.” She glanced around. “Hey. Ian’s on patrol. I think he noticed something going on. Don’t play any music or anything. Don’t make conversation with Max. Oh. And don’t  _ call _ him Max.” 

You nodded. As Max got closer you noticed something looked off about him. It was so absurd that you took a moment to realise what was up. One of his forearms was missing, and he was holding it in his intact hand. You had to try not to laugh - it looked like he had one very long arm. 

Ian got to him before you could. Before you could react he grabbed the broken arm from Max and slapped him across the face with it. You stood and stared, dumbfounded. Max recoiled, but bounced back astoundingly fast, staring Ian down. For being almost a head shorter, his glare was intimidating.

Ian had obviously seen it all before, and he didn’t back down. “This is the fourth time in two weeks! The _fourth_ time!” he yelled. “I swear to god. If it was me who held your contract I’d have thrown you in the dump on the _first_ time.” 

You had to admire Max’s courage … or idiocy, or programming, you didn’t know which one it was. He stood his ground. “Give my arm back.”

“What’s the magic word, tin can?”

Max held out his remaining hand. “ _ Please, _ ” he said, looking daggers. 

Ian shoved the arm at him, before rounding on you. “I’m gonna be making a report of how many times that piece of scrap metal gets busted up in future. It’s time I started pushing those bureaucrats at the council to do a total overall of their fleet.”

He stalked off. Once he’d disappeared, Lana looked over at you, incredulous. You looked back at her, and then at Max. Max’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Well. I’m gonna excuse myself from this creepy eye contact triangle,” she said, and went back to work. 

Max sat down. Without thinking, you reached out to touch his cheek, where he’d been slapped, but quickly withdrew, realizing the intimacy of the gesture. The skin was tinted blue, in an effort to repair whatever minor damage the attack had done. 

“Is he always like this?” you murmured. 

Max nodded. “I’m used to it.”

“He says androids don’t feel pain. But they experience a distress signal when they get damaged. Just like humans.” Lana said.

You nodded. “Nerves and neurons. Sensors and processors. Different delivery, same outcome, I’d say.” You turned to Max. “Still, you don’t seem too bothered about missing an arm.” 

“The difference with us is that it’s not so hard to replace it.”

“I’d say a slap to the face still feels pretty crappy though.”

Max said nothing. 

“How about some music? Now that he’s gone.” 

He nodded. 

You tore your gaze away from him and grabbed your phone. “Stone Roses?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, let’s get this arm fixed.” 

_ I Wanna Be Adored  _ blared out from your tinny-sounding phone speaker. Max held his upper arm out to you. Your brow furrowed as you looked it over. Wires hung out, circuit boards were exposed, and the skin around the wound was stained with Thirium. The detached forearm was unusable, totally busted. You bandaged the wound for the moment while you went to find a replacement arm. His original one was busted beyond repair. There was absolutely nothing in the parts drawers. You supposed you’d have to improvise. You checked for WR600 arms. You had a feeling they might be compatible - they had the same body build, although internally they weren’t as robust. They even looked almost the same. Finally you found an arm. You just had to solve the issue of reinforcing it, since you knew it wouldn’t be resilient enough to withstand using power tools on its own. Some carbon fibre framework from a TW400 arm would do the trick, if you cut it down to size. 

You returned with the parts and set to work, then fitted the new arm into place. “I hope this works. If I have to keep doing this and I replace all your parts, will you even be the same android anymore?” you chuckled. “Okay. You’re done. Try to move your fingers.”

He flexed his hand, and it responded smoothly. 

“How does it feel?”

“Strange. But functional.”

“I’ll try and see if I can get my hands on a legit WM500 arm soon,” you reassured him. 

“If they still manufacture them,” Max replied dejectedly. 

“I’ll call you in when I get one.” You were sure you’d find one somehow.

He looked outside, and then back at you, with a cryptic expression … or maybe it was just a blank expression, you couldn’t be sure. 

“Try not to lose another arm, okay?”


	3. Chapter 3

After some searching around a few android resellers, you finally managed to order in an arm for him, to replace the one you’d jury-rigged. You called him in. He sat down in your chair again, and you showed him the arm. 

“Looks just like my old one,” he said matter-of-factly. 

You chuckled. “Good. I would hope so. Come on, let’s get this one off.”

“Oh … well, actually, I’m kind of attached to it.” 

You burst out laughing. 

He looked confused. 

“You’re … _attached_ to it? Get it? Like, literally. Ha.” 

“Well … yes.” 

You sighed. “Okay, never mind.” 

He detached the old arm and you put the new one in its place. He flexed it. Even though you’d done body part repairs before, you always found it disorienting doing them, seeing something detached, disembodied, dead and fake looking, suddenly become alive. It had just been a piece of lifeless plastic, but as soon as Max attached it, it was like it became a part of him, like it had always been a part of him. 

“As good as new,” he said. 

You nodded. “Okay good. Please don’t go and break it.”

He held the new hand up and examined it, then looked between his fingers at you. “I’ll try.”

You rolled your eyes. 

* * *

The weekend came round. You woke up late, and rushed to get dressed and ready. You had someone coming round to put up some shelves in your apartment - you needed to be home to greet him, and then after that you had errands to run. 

While your coffee was brewing, you cast your eyes over the wall where the shelves were to be built. The apartment was a large warehouse conversion that had seen better days - you’d rented it at a cheap price with the promise that while you were living there you would renovate it to make it more leasable, and increase its value for the next tenant. For what you earned, you felt lucky to have it - it was spacious, with a high ceiling and a huge window in the living room that let light pour into the whole apartment. Through it you had a sweeping view of the city, which looked especially amazing at night, the downtown skyscrapers lit up in every color.

You’d already made good progress with improving it. You’d given it a deep clean, polished the concrete floors and made them more homey with some artfully placed rugs you’d picked up second hand. The furniture, too, was second hand, each piece unique and eclectic - some of it you’d even found laying on the sidewalk. You’d finished it off with some houseplants - ones you could be sure that you wouldn’t accidentally kill by forgetting about them. The last addition you planned to make were the shelves along the living room wall. 

The carpenter arrived just as you were finishing your coffee. You hastily gulped the rest of it down and tried to make yourself look presentable, and not like you’d just woken up. You let him in and showed him the bare wall. 

“Yeah, that’s a big job. I had a cancellation so I can make a start right now, but I’ll have to charge in advance.”

“Uh, alright. So what do you think you can get through today?”

“I’d say about half.”

“Sure. I have to go out and run some errands though.”

“S’ all good, you can trust me.”

“Can I just pay for what you do today? Like, I’ll give you half now?” You felt hesitant. You were on a budget, after all.

He sighed. “Yeah alright, let’s do that.”

You paid, and went to your room to throw some makeup on hastily before you left the apartment. You shivered when you stepped onto the street. Snow would be coming soon, for sure. 

You got off the bus downtown right outside a building site. As you made your way around it you glanced in through the gaps in the hoarding to see if you could pick out Max. You knew it wasn’t likely he’d be there but you couldn’t help yourself. As you passed by the site’s main entrance, you got the uncanny feeling someone was watching you. You looked for the source.

There were a group of WM500s working away, but only one was looking up at you. He crouched, hammering some pins into the ground to secure some wiring. He held a couple more pins between his teeth while he worked. You looked closer. He noticed the recognition in your eyes. You smiled, but it fell away quickly as you saw someone approach him from behind - a human who you assumed was his supervisor. You watched as the man rapped on Max’s hardhat with his knuckles. Then he reached round and snapped his fingers in Max’s face. Max blinked, and turned to face him. “Oi! What the hell are you doing? Thought we’d got rid of the horny idiots that stared at every passerby when they got replaced with you machines. Get back to work!”

You looked on, wishing there was something you could have said. Some of the other androids were turning their attention towards the altercation now. The supervisor rounded on them. “What are you guys looking at? I thought we had one problem droid, now look at the lot of you!”

You thought he was going to back down, but clearly he hadn’t taken out enough frustration on them just yet. He grabbed one of the other androids by the collar. “Should I make an example of you!? Or should I pick someone else?”

The android said nothing. You saw Max inch closer, hands closed into fists. You prayed he didn’t cause a commotion, or you knew it would be him that would be made an example of. 

“I swear, you low-models are just giving me more and more excuses to get you replaced.” He grabbed a hammer from the belt of the android he had by the collar, and held it up to the poor droid’s face, less than an inch from his eye socket. “I know they don’t make new optical units for you guys any more,” he threatened. 

For Max, that was the last straw. He lunged at the supervisor, shoving him backwards and causing him to let go of the other android. The human went straight back at him, but Max fought him off. You knew at some point, the fight would have to end, and whether it was Max or his human supervisor that won, it would be the end for Max. 

“ _Hey!_ ” you yelled. 

Max didn’t let up. 

“MAX!”

He let go suddenly, and his supervisor overbalanced and fell to the floor. Max stood, bewildered, looking at you. His supervisor got up, groaning, trying to point his finger at Max. 

“Max, don’t do anything, you hear me? Just chill out.”

The supervisor got up weakly and walked up to where you stood, at the border of the site. “What are you doing, lady? I’ll handle this, I don’t need no random strangers trying to resolve a human-android dispute.”

You smiled politely. “I’m one of his mechanics. I’m so sorry for his behaviour, I’ll take him to get fixed immediately.”

He changed his tone. “Yeah, you’d better.”

You leaned sideways to peer over his shoulder at Max. “Max, come here, let’s go get you fixed.” 

Max walked slowly towards you. 

“ _Trust me_ ,” you mouthed when his supervisor turned away. Max leered at the supervisor as he turned away and walked back to his post. Then, as a last insult, he took one of the pins from his belt and threw it square at the supervisor’s head. It hit the back of his hardhat with a sharp clack. 

“Oops,” Max said smugly, looking pleased with himself.

The supervisor turned round and glared at him, and began to get up, fists clenching. You put your arm on Max’s back, guiding him forcefully onto the sidewalk. The supervisor turned away, shaking his head. 

“Oh my god, Max,” you breathed. “Tone it down, you’re just asking to get busted again.”

“He deserved it.”

“But it’ll get you _destroyed_ , Max.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “They can’t afford any more androids. They’re stuck with me.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“I don’t need to be repaired.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking you to get repaired. I just wanted to get you away from that bastard.”

“What about the others? Now they’re just defenseless. At least I stand up to him.”

“I don’t know Max. I don’t have that power. I wish I did.”

He removed his hard hat, and looked back at them over his shoulder. 

You hadn’t planned this far ahead, you’d just acted on impulse, when you saw Max getting roughhoused. You looked around. So much for the errands. His LED was still flashing red and yellow. “Come on, come with me. You need somewhere to cool down.”

He followed you down the street to the bus stop. “When I get off, you get off. No funny business.”

Max eyed you belligerently. 

The bus arrived, and you got on. Max mirrored you, stepping into the android section. 

Every time the bus stopped, you looked over to check Max hadn’t bolted. Every time, he caught your eye back, a flash of bright silver-green standing out against the subdued and downcast gazes of the other androids. Finally you reached your stop. You jerked your head at him again, and found yourself face to face with him on the sidewalk as you stepped out. 

“This isn’t the workshop.” Max said. 

“Obviously. This is my place. If I walked in with you on my day off, and tried to pretend you needed a repair, they’d know something’s up,” you replied. “Come on.”

You walked him into the foyer and called the elevator. While you waited, you distanced yourself from him. “Hopefully no one will ask why I have a maintenance android in the building. If they do, tell them it’s emergency plumbing work.”

He nodded. The elevator arrived. You stepped inside, and stood a few feet away from each other, as you had done in the foyer. The upbeat elevator music did nothing to dissipate the awkward tension between you. Finally, it reached your floor, and you led him down the hall, unlocking your door and heading inside. You gasped sharply. You’d forgotten about the carpenter - he was still working away at the shelves. He was startled as well. 

“Thought you were running some errands,” he said sheepishly. 

You laughed nervously. “Well, I was, but-” 

“What’s that doing here?” he cut you off. 

“Well, that’s what stopped me. He needs repairs.”

He still looked confused. 

“I’m his mechanic,” you added. 

“Uh …”

You kicked yourself for being such a terrible liar. “The workshop’s uh, closed on weekends, and it was urgent. It’s fine, I’ll stay out of your way.” 

“Hmm.” He nodded, and looked a little sheepish. Was he still suspicious? He was eyeing off Max.

You turned around to Max, who was inspecting the shelves. His eyes were narrowed shrewdly. It would be enough to make anyone uncomfortable, you realised. “Hey Max, come on.”

He didn’t budge. “That’s shoddy work,” he said bluntly. 

The carpenter stood up. “Hey. You can’t bring that thing in here and then have it insult me.”

“I’m so sorry, he’s malfunctioning, I’ll-”

Max spoke over you. “It’s potentially dangerous if you’re planning to put heavy objects on them. They’ve got _glaring_ structural weaknesses.”

“Max, cut it out.”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

You had a feeling he was right - you hadn’t trusted the man from the start. Still, if he kept talking there’d be more fighting, you were sure of it. You turned to the carpenter. “Uh … maybe you’d better go.”

His face flushed with anger. “What, so you can fix your robot? I’m halfway through a job, lady! But sure, it’s not like I’m losing out on the payment.” He went to walk out. 

You’d forgotten you’d paid in advance. “Hey, I shouldn’t have paid before you did the job anyway! You can’t get more proof of crappy work than having an android saying it’s bad. Refund me please!”

He scoffed, and you realised how stupid your argument seemed to him. “Yeah. A _malfunctioning_ android, you said.”

Max rushed towards him and pinned him against the door frame. “ _Pay her back_.” he said, his voice surprisingly threatening. 

The carpenter spat in his face. “She said you need _repairs_? You need to be destroyed, you plastic fuck!”

Enough was enough. You strode up to the pair and grabbed Max sharply on the arm. “Max, let him take the money. Just back off, it’s not worth it.”

His LED was bright red again. You could see the strain in his face as his rogue programming conflicted with your command. You softened your grip. “Max, come on.”

“Yeah, get him the fuck off me!”

“Max, there’ll be consequences for me as well as you if you don’t let him go,” you murmured. 

With an anguished groan, Max let go. The other man rubbed his neck angrily. You cast him an apologetic look. It was the best you could do right now. “Take the money, okay?”

“Fuck you. And fuck _you_ too.” He pointed lividly at Max, and then you, before storming out. “You’re lucky I don’t file a lawsuit against you!” His voice echoed down the hallway. You shut the door. 

“That wasn’t … _fair!_ ” Max lamented. “You paid for bad work!”

You sighed, eyes closed, leaning back against the door. “I know. Sometimes you have to just let shit go. I could’ve had a court case on my hands, and it’s not worth that. Plus, I can kind of see where he’s coming from. Things have been hard for humans since you guys came along and started doing all our work better than we can. No offense.”

He hung his head. “My probability algorithm doesn’t include things outside the immediate future.” He tugged at his collar. 

You were surprised he’d admitted it. “It’s okay. Thanks for defending me. I’m not disregarding that. It was brave.”

Max shuffled his feet. “I just hate unfairness.”

“I can see.” You smiled. “You act tough, but I think underneath, you’re a big softie.”

He breathed heavily. “I really have to cool down now. My processor is at one-sixty-seven degrees.”

You nodded. “Shit. Yeah, you do. Come here.” You went to the fridge and opened it. It wasn’t the most effective way to cool his core, but it was the best you had. He took off his bulky hi-vis jacket and stood in front of it. You brought the door in close to him to reflect some of the cold air back at him. He closed his eyes, and his LED returned to blue. He stepped forwards and you closed the fridge again. 

She laughed. “Never thought I’d have to put an android in my fridge.”

His gaze drifted around the apartment, and back to the half-finished shelves. “I can fix those.”

“Max! No. Come on. When will you do that without getting caught out?”

“No one checks our charging stations between eight and midnight, and my supervisor has reported me in for repairs right now, as you know.”

He _would_ do a perfect job, you reasoned. The one thing that worried you was his recklessness … but was he really dangerous? Maybe to others, but he’d never laid a finger on you. 

He looked you squarely between the eyes. “I _want_ to help,” he said firmly. You were surprised at his insistence. 

You lowered your gaze away from his persistent stare. If Ian found out, you were done for. Deep down though, you liked the idea. There was something about his keenness that made you want to oblige … not to mention your growing fondness for him. Your heart won over your head this time. “Okay, fine. But not now. I took a risk as it is. How about Monday after eight.”

He nodded. “I can do that.”

* * *

You were unsettled all day on Monday. Lana noticed, but thankfully she said nothing. 

Even when you arrived home, you felt restless. You got dinner, and ate it at the window. The sun disappeared behind the horizon, and the city lights started to come on. First, the skyscrapers, windows lit up with warm yellow lights, and then the cranes on the skyline, blinking red lights into the clouds. The glow of the lights diffused ethereally into the haze of low mist. 

You physically jumped when your buzzer rang. You knew exactly who it would be. A wave of relief washed over you when you heard his voice over the intercom - he’d made it to you safely. You let him into the building. You checked your reflection in the black screen of your phone as you waited for him to come up in the elevator, absent-mindedly fixing your hair. Finally, you heard a light tapping at the door. You took a deep breath and opened it. 

There was Max, standing coyly at your doorstep, still in uniform, a toolbox in one hand and a hard hat in the other. 

You let him in. “No trouble today?” you grinned mischievously. 

He shook his head. 

“Here, let me take those.” You gestured to his hat and jacket. He passed them to you.

You took him over to the wall, where some shelves had been attached already, and the rest were piled on the floor. “Here. And I have a step ladder for the higher-up ones. Give me a shout when you need it.” 

The toolbox clanked loudly when he put it on the floor. “I’ll make a start.”

“Sure.” You moved to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, facing the living room. 

He knelt down and rummaged in the tool box, then made a start reinforcing the already mounted shelves. You put a speaker on the countertop in front of you and started up some music. You hoped it would make him feel more comfortable. Then, you grabbed your computer and set it up on the counter. You might as well at least look like you were busy, even if you weren’t. You paid some bills and went through your emails. You stole a quick glance over the top of your screen. Max was working away, hammering a nail into the wall, with a couple more held between his teeth. You tried not to smile. You couldn’t help thinking it was sort of cute when he did that. Platonically, of course.

There were so many things about him that you were curious to know. He was so hard to read. It drew you to him, intrigued you. He said everything in as few words as possible. It was always a challenge to work out what he was really thinking. You were secretly glad he’d offered to come and help you. You’d never expected that from him. You hoped his reason for agreeing to it was more than just wanting to do more work. Maybe he was as fond of you as you were of him? Or, maybe you were projecting. He was an android, after all.

“What kind of construction do you actually do, Max?” you asked.

His voice was slightly muffled - he still had one nail held between his teeth. “Whatever they want me to do. Roads, electrical maintenance ...”

“I bet you have some stories,” you grinned. 

“Stories?”

“Yeah, I bet you’ve heard some weird shit. People talk about wild stuff when they think no one is listening.”

He paused. “Hmm. A lot. Not things you’d want me to repeat, probably,” he said gruffly, voice muffled again by the screws between his teeth. You regretted asking - he seemed a little uncomfortable. You decided to change the subject. 

“Oh! I found some new music for you. Listen to this.” You grabbed your phone and started playing your most recent saves. “Well. Not  _ new  _ new … but stuff Lana hasn’t played you yet.”

A look of concentration fell over his face as he listened. Then he closed his eyes and bobbed his head a little. “Yeah.” He got back to work. You couldn’t help but keep watching him. 

After another hour or so, he finished fixing the already mounted shelves. “They look a lot sturdier,” he said, getting up and standing back, hands on hips, checking his work. He looked around at you expectantly. 

“Looks great! I think they definitely look more level.”

“I’d better get back to my post, they’ll be checking soon. When should I come back here?”

“Uh … let’s keep it spaced out to be safe. Next week, Wednesday?”

He nodded. You passed his hat, gloves and jacket back to him and he made his way to the front door. You opened it for him. “Hey Max.”

He stopped in the doorway and looked down at you. 

“Thanks. Really.”

“You’re welcome.”

He paused for a moment, mouth slightly open like he wanted to say something. Then he looked down and examined the door knob intently, like he was trying to look anywhere but at you. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll see you next Wednesday.”

“S-sure!” you stammered. His silence had thrown you off. “See you then.”

He ducked out of the doorway and made his way down the hall to the elevator. You watched him go, then you shut the door and fell back against it weakly. 

Why hadn’t you been able to stop looking at him while he was working? You wished he had never offered to help. You wished you had never shown him kindness, let him come to you every time for repairs. 

You knew why you had let it all happen. At first he’d just intrigued you; you could see something going on behind the mask of his reticence. You’d been taken by the intensity of his eyes. His love of music, deadpan attitude, quiet rebelliousness, the way he’d defended that other android.

Everything about what you were thinking was wrong, terrible, not allowed. “Fuck,” you said to yourself. “I have a crush on an android.”


End file.
